The Iron Guardian
by SpartAl412
Summary: Across the mountains of the Old World where the Dwarfs build their bastions, battles are constantly fought between the stout mountain folk and their many foes. As the Greenskin Hordes begin to threaten yet another of the Hold, they will soon find themselves facing against the indomitable bulwark of strength and steel that is the Ironbreakers.


Smoke rose up into the bright blue sky as many fires burned in the distance; each was an inferno that had once been a settlement of the Empire. Long trains of human refugees traveled across a winding road as they made their way up the pass leading to the Dwarf Hold of Karak Hirn where a mighty Throng was being mustered. The winds loudly howled across the peaks of the Black Mountains, cowing many of those who sought shelter among the ancient allies of the Empire.

Standing upon a hill which overlooked the crowds was a small group of Dwarfs who were mostly clad in suits of mail armour and stone grey cloaks. Under their watchful eyes did the refugees climb for the party of dwarfs had been sent as armed escorts to guard the pass and be on the lookout for the enemy. Eventually, one of the dwarfs, a young ranger quietly spoke out in the native tongue of their kind as they observed the humans.

'Mostly women, children and elderly' said the young auburn bearded ranger with a hint of worry 'where are their men-folk?'

'Probably all dead trying to defend their homes' said another older dwarf who wore the vestments and helmet of a Miner as his gloved hands and graying beard rested on the butt of his mattock. The Miner then looked to where the fires burned and said 'damn shame really, many of those towns grow the grain we use for our beer'.

'Do you think the manlings at least thinned many of the greenskins?' said the ranger for word had already spread that the horde which laid waste to the human realm that had once been called Solland numbered in the thousands.

'I highly doubt that' came the deep voice of the one dwarf in their company who was clad head to toe in heavy _gromril_ armour.

The warrior wore an ornate face concealing horned helmet that bore a long of veil of bronze chains which concealed the his mouth and beard while the rest of his body was covered in thick plates of runic star metal. His gauntleted left hand rested upon the rim of a heavy shield which bore the insignia of the Gunnisson Clan which depicted a helmet much like the one the warrior wore with a silver mountain behind the helmet and in his right hand, he carried a hammer that was inscribed with mystic runes of power. His name was Dorandor Ironheart, a minor lordling among the clan which claimed descent from Gunn, son of Morgrim, the Ancestor God of Engineering and son of Grimnir himself.

The Ranger then gave a curious look to the dwarf warrior who surely must be one of the Ironbreakers who normally guarded the _Ungdrin_. He then looked to the crowd of humans again and nodded with quite understanding. If the horde was as big as what was rumored then they would be in for a real messy war.

'Well we better send a runner to inform Karak Hirn that they got a lot of company coming' shrugged the Miner as he reached into the pockets of his trousers and removed a troll-bone pipe.

The dwarfs then looked to the young ranger who became silent for a moment as he felt their eyes upon him. Understanding their intentions, he quietly nodded while thumping his right fist over his heart. The young ranger then went down towards the path and he navigated his way through the crowd of human refugees.

'Right then lads, let's go and form up a rear guard and all' announced a blonde bearded Thunderer as he hefted up a loaded rifle.

The other Dwarfs agreed with the Thunderer and they began to descend the pass with weapons at the ready and the humans made way for them.

* * *

The journey down the hill did not take long for the dwarfs who were quite accustomed to traveling up and down the slopes of the mountains as well as underneath it. Dorandor did his best to try not to think too much of the haunted expressions which a number of the humans and the things they must have seen as they fled from the greenskin warpath. In many ways, it reminded the dwarf of the tales which his father's ancestors must have felt after losing their home of Silverspear as well as the Eight Peak which his mother's ancestors had hailed from.

It would feel good to extract vengeance from the greenskins who were responsible for so much misery and he could sense the power of the runes upon his hammer stir in sympathy. Next to Dorandor was the Miner who was named Brokk Stonehewer of the famed Stonebreaker clan and the other was a runic great axe wielding warrior named Logri Boulderfist who had come from a surface hold east near Karaz-a-Karak. The rest of their company who traveled behind them was composed of the Thunderer named Borin Stenson, a pair of brown bearded, crossbow and axe armed Rangers named Torvald and his brother Horvald and the last member was an Engineer named Jotunn Firebeard whose beard was indeed fiery in colour.

As they descended down the pass, Dorandor heard the scream of a human woman who was shouting about goblins and soon the crowd began to panic as they quickened their pace up the mountain with many of the women-folk picking up their children and others panicked into a stampede. Cursing to Grimnir as several humans slammed into him, Dorandor knew that he could not just cut a swath through the mass of hysterical, unarmed refugees. He heard the voices of his fellow dwarfs cursing as well while the humans rushed them and amidst the sound of their voices, hear heard the familiar, undulating high pitched voices of _grobi_.

A black mood fell over Dorandor as he gnashed his teeth in anger for the ancient enemy of his people was near. His field of vision finally cleared after an old man passed him and his eyes widened at the sight of Night Goblin Squig riders bounding close towards him with the _grobi_ riders cackling manically. Not having time to see how the others were, the Ironbreaker planted his feet and braced himself for the impact while raising his hammer and shield.

From the rim of his shield, he saw one squig rider leap towards him while the goblin tightly held on to the small horn like nubs which grew on top of the squig's skull. The monster's slavering, tooth filled maw opened widely in ravenous hunger and the dwarf could smell the foul breath of the thing. Thrusting his _gromril_ shield forward and slamming it into the oncoming squig's mouth, he felt the as if he had just tried to block the strike of a maul while at the same time, he shattered several of the bulbous thing's teeth before following up with swing from his hammer which caught the squig on the side of its hideous face.

With a loud smack which was followed by the audible crunch of bone, Dorandor knocked the foul thing to the ground and the goblin rider leapt towards him while drawing a crudely serrated dagger. Quickly moving back into a defensive stance, the Ironbreaker then delivered a second shield slam which struck the goblin in chest and knocking it to the ground. Before the hateful little _grobi_ could recover, Dorandor brought his hammer down on its skull and he splattered it green little brains all over his weapon and armour before the loud cracks of blackpowder guns echoed across the pass.

Turning his gaze towards the rest of his party, Dorandor saw the smoking barrels of the guns wielded by Borin and Jotunn while two dead squigs lay before them and another was downed with crossbow bolts to the eyes. Logri and Brokk met the charges of the Squigs with expert swings of their weapons which felled the bulbous mounts like a woodcutter bringing down a tree. The Night Goblins who had been more fortunate than their mounts were quick to flee from the wrath of the Dwarfs; they did not make it far though for the bullets and bolts of the dwarfs found their way into the backs of the wretches.

A tense silence filled the air as the dwarfs took stock of their situation and Dorandor looked down the pass to see if there were more greenskins on the way. With eyes narrowing underneath the sockets of his helmet, he as well as his party quickly saw the moving shapes of a large greenskin warband making their way up the pass.

'Looks like we got company lads!' shouted Torvald who set down his crossbow and pulled out a bronze looking glass which he used to observe the incoming horde.

'What do you see brother?' asked Horvald as he reloaded his crossbow before picking up Torvald's own and reloading it as well.

'Vanguard group' announced Torvald 'I can count about ten dozen of them, mostly goblins but a few orcs too, no more mounted troops, thank Grungni.'

'Right then lads, guns and crossbows out!' shouted Logri Boulderfist who sheathed his bloodied runic greataxe upon his back and he brought out a light hunting crossbow while Brokk drew a pistol from its holster.

The Engineer, Jotunn Firebeard then pulled out wide barreled pistol which he aimed towards the air and with a simple squeeze of the trigger, he launched a burning bright red flare towards the sky. At least the Hold of Karak Hirn would now know about the incoming greenskins if the ranger they had sent up had not delivered the message yet. Until then, they were the only thing standing between the greenskins and the human refugees.

Setting down his shield and hammer, Dorandor drew a heavy pistol which was especially designed to be effective when used as melee weapon. Loading both shot and powder into the gun with a calm and mechanical precision, he then holstered it before picking up his hammer and setting it into a tough orc-hide leather loop which carried the rune weapon by its head. He then picked up his shield and drew his pistol once more while readying himself in a defensive stance.

'Got anything to even up the odds?' asked Brokk towards Jotunn who peered down a small looking glass that was mounted upon his rifle. The Engineer then set down his rifle's handle to the ground and with one hand; he began removing a series of familiar black metal spheres from a bandolier.

'Cinderblast Bombs' said Jotunn with a hint of pride 'I have made a few modifications which I am sure will prove quite effective against all these _grobi_ in the open.' The Engineer then began to hand out the small bombs to the other dwarfs who took the small devices with a mixture of eagerness and wariness for such weapons could at times be unreliable.

The high pitched screeches that passed for warcries among the goblins were drowned out by the louder roars of the orcs as they drew closer with weapons raised. Removing the pins from the bomb, the dwarfs hurled the explosives at the goblins as easily as if they were throwing snow balls. As soon as the small black spheres disappeared amongst the rabble, mighty explosions of fire, smoke and shrapnel ripped across the mass of enemies and sending bits of green flesh flying everywhere.

The Dwarfs did not give the hateful greenskins time to recover from the shock before they unleashed a volley of shots from their guns and crossbows. Screams of terror and agony followed the explosions and shots as the greenskins died or attempted to flee while others shoved or fought their way upwards. The dwarfs then began to pull back with the Borri, the Rangers and Jotunn being the furthest away from the greenskins while Dorandor, Brokk and Logri covered their withdrawal by hurling another series of Cinderblast Bombs.

As another of series of explosions took their deadly toll among the foes, the orcs who had been bullying and goading the goblins charged on with little regard for the lesser greenskins while roaring 'WAAAGGGHH' At the top of their lungs. Holstering his spent pistol and readying his runic hammer, Dorandor braced himself for the mass of muscle and green flesh with a practiced discipline borne from decades of fighting within the dark tunnels of the _Ungdrin_. A loud pair of cracks and clacks resounded from the dwarfs armed with ranged weapons and the Ironbreaker saw three orcs go down before being trampled by their kin.

Thrusting his rune hammer forward and swinging it in an upwards arc, Dorandor caught the orc nearest to him in the jaw with enough force to shatter monster's bone but the arcane sigils placed upon his weapon worked its destructive power and as soon as the Ironbreaker struck the orc, he watched in feral satisfaction as its head was pulverized as messily as if it were struck by a cannon ball. Quickly raising his shield up at the same time he launched his attack, Dorandor blocked the crude axe of an orc warrior and he countered with a thrust towards the barreled chest of the greenskin and caving in its ribcage. He quickly retracted his hammer in time to parry the downwards chop of an orc sword and he slammed the boss of his shield into the greenskin's brutish face.

All around the Ironbreaker, the other dwarfs did their part in fighting the ancestral enemies of their people with both the discipline and experience to make a Longbeard proud. Brokk swung his mattock as easily as a warrior with a great weapon, the blunt end shattered the bones of the greenskins while the pointy end buried into armored flesh as easily as stone. Logri on the other hand fought with a skill that put both the Ironbreaker and the Miner to shame for his runic greataxe which was named _Grobmaraz_, Goblin-Hewer, gleamed with a white light that cut through both armour and flesh.

The orcs easily fell to the combined fury of the dwarfs and their runic wargear or the ranged weapons carried by their companions. Bashing in the skull of another orc and expertly blocking a cleaver strike before countering with a mighty swing, the Ironbreaker was as much in his element as if he were in the dark tunnels. As he continued to crush and smash aside the greenskins, he suddenly faced a particularly large, mace and shield armed orc who was covered in thick armour and from what little of its flesh was exposed, the dwarf saw that it was of such a dark shade of green that it may as well have been black.

Severed human heads dangled from the belt of this fearsome Black Orc whose thick armour looked to be scavenged and composed of the breastplates used by Empire soldiers. Symbols of the twin tailed comet, a white lion carrying a pennant with a sun or other symbols often associated with the Empire were defaced with barbarous war paint depicting orc skulls or jaws. The Black Orc glared down at Dorandor with its piggy eyes narrowing underneath the visor of its horned helmet before raising its spiked mace which glowed with a greenish light towards him in challenge.

The Ironbreaker slammed the head of his rune hammer into his shield and roared a _khazalid_ warcry, accepting the Black Orc's challenge. The greenskins gave Dorandor a wide berth as they instead focused on the other dwarfs who continued to tirelessly fight. The two warriors slowly began to circle each other and from his experience in dealing with Black Orcs, the often proved to not only be quite capable of great feats of physical strength, but also canny use of tactics and wit.

The Black Orc stepped forward to deliver a swipe but halted and retracted its imbued mace at the last moment without the dwarf reacting it. In the greenskin's eyes, Dorandor could tell that his opponent was planning its next moves and how it should proceed as the Black Orc suddenly sidestepped with mace raised up and shield lowered. The dwarf did not react and as he suspected, the Black Orc went back into a defensive stance.

Although his focus was completely now on the Black Orc, Dorandor knew that he could not stall this fight for his comrades would still need his aid. With a determined grunt, he charged the Black Orc with shield raised and his opponent braced itself for his attack. While Dorandor himself was not exactly fast, the sheer momentum which he had picked up, along with the weight of both himself and his wargear would be enough to trample a _grobi_ to death but for an orc though, he expected that the greenskin would be able to handle the impact.

To his surprise, the Black Orc did not stand its ground but instead it side stepped to the dwarf's right, preventing him from being able to launch a shield slam and it brought its mace down in an overhead bash. Agony coursed into the Ironbreaker as the imbued mace crashed against the runic pauldron that protected is right shoulder. Not having time to launch a counter-attack, he quickly shifted his stance so that his shield would have the Black Orc and he barely managed to block a powerful head butt from the greenskin that staggered him back.

Gritting his teeth and focusing his iron-will on the fight, Dorandor tightened the grip on his hammer as the Black Orc began a relentless assault with its glowing spiked mace. Bright sparks of energy flashed as the mace which was imbued with greenskin magic met the runic power placed into the gromril shield. The Ironbreaker then managed to find an opening in the Orc's assault and he swung his hammer into the brute's waist which caused a loud screech of steel as the scavenged Imperial plates bent from his strike.

The Black Orc shouted in pain as it quickly delivered another overhead bash which Dorandor barely managed to block while countering with a hammer swing which the greenskin managed to block as well. The two warriors continued to trade mighty blows that would have killed manling in one hit while masterfully making use of the shields they carried which could also be used as a weapon. Still hearing the voices of his fellow dwarfs as they continued to fight, Dorandor was able to catch a glimpse of them still desperately fighting against the other orcs.

Muttering a curse, the Ironbreaker redoubled his efforts by going straight into the Black Orc with shield raised high again. The Greenskin quickly sidestepped again and brought his mace down but this time the dwarf was ready as he shifted his stand with right foot taking a step back and exposing his armoured chest to his opponent as its mace crashed into rocky ground. Thrusting his rune hammer up, he caught the greenskin directly in the visor of its helmet where the spike on the top of his weapon skewered the brute's right eye.

The Black Orc roared in pain once more as blood as its shield slammed into Dorandor's own and the Ironbreaker took it like a gate withstanding the strike of a battering ram. Raising his booted right foot, the dwarf stomped down on the wrist of the orc which still held on to its mace while at the same time he swung his hammer at it with the business end smashing onto the greenskin's armoured forehead. The runes on his hammer blazed brightly before it even struck and with another loud screech of steel which was followed by the wet crump of bone and flesh, he knew that he had struck a killing blow.

The Orc's eyes rolled up as the rune hammer had smashed through the plates of its helmet, passing through its thick skull and reducing its brain to jelly. The greenskin fell to its knees and collapsed into the embrace of death with a loud clatter of metal plates. Looking to his fellow dwarfs, he saw that each now fought toe to toe with the greenskins whose bodies now littered the ground.

A loud series of cracks suddenly then roared in the distance and several of the orcs were felled as crossbow bolts embedded into the flesh of the others. The dwarfs were quick to take advantage of this and they fought with a renewed vigor before finally, all of the orcs had been slain. With a quite word of thanks to the Ancestor Gods, Dorandor looked up the pass to see a small Throng bearing the banners of Karak Hirn.

Smoke wafted around a regiment of Thunderers who were busily reloading their rifles while a group of Quarrelers did the same. A group of Hammerers accompanying a Dwarf Lord descended down upon the bloodied party and the group began to straighten up their mail coats and beards which were now spattered with green blood. Among the Lord's entourage, Dorandor saw the ranger they had earlier sent and the young dwarf gave them a cheery look.

'Looks like you lads had a bit of a fight on your hands' came the voice of the Lord who was a brown bearded patriarch clad in shining gilded runic plate armour and wielding a twin bladed axe that was surrounded by glowing embers.

'Nothing we couldn't handle, my lord' saluted Borin and the rest of the party gave respectful salutes to the noble.

'Good to hear, because the fly-boys just came back and it is just as we feared' replied the Dwarf Lord whose gaze then turned back to the pass where at an extreme distance, Dorandor saw the far away banners and moving shapes of the Greenskin Horde.

'What are your orders, lord?' asked Logri Boulderfist.

'You lads up for another fight?' replied the Dwarf Lord who quickly then continued 'because basically, we are going to go down there, blood them a bit with ranged fire then lure them up the pass where we got a whole load of marksmen and artillery waiting for them as well as other surprises from the Engineers Guild.'

'Always ready to go kill some more _grobi_, my lord!' shouted Dorandor as he raised his hammer in salute and the rest of his party voiced their agreements.

'Good, now get ready for we will be departing soon' said the Dwarf Lord who then looked to towards his standard bearer who in turn nodded and pulled out a horn.

The standard bearer let loose a loud peal that echoed through the mountains and the small Throng shouted '_Khazukan Khazit-Ha!_'

As the Throng began its march downwards, the party of dwarfs dispersed to join the regiment which would best suit their skill. Dorandor then moved to join a regiment of shield bearing warriors and as he did so, he passed by the young ranger who gave him a respectful salute.

'I saw you kill that Black Orc, you were amazing' said the ranger who looked to be only a beardling of barely past fifty.

'Won't be the first definitely not the last Black Orc I fight lad' shrugged the Ironbreaker as he tried to recall the ranger's name but it slipped his mind. 'Err what was your name again?' Dorandor asked with a bit of embarrassment.

'Oh, it's Thori' replied the ranger 'Thori Skorrisson of _Khazid Zhon._'

'Right sorry about that, well Thori Skorrisson, let's hope that we all get through this eh?'

'Aye!' came the eager agreement of the Ranger who then moved to take place among a regiment of Quarrelers who marched beside the warriors of whom Dorandor was going to join up with.

The voices of the Throng soon broke out into a song that was one part dirge and another part, an oath of vengeance towards the ancestral enemies of their race. As the stench of their foes soon began to reach their nostrils and the mere sight of so much green flesh filled them with fury. The sons of Grungni stood resolute against the green tide with courage and grim determination fueling their resolve.


End file.
